


you're a fit one, mr. grinch

by lafbaeyette, pipsqueakparker (lafbaeyette)



Series: 5 Years 'Verse [1]
Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Smut, M/M, Merry Christmas I'm Sorry, Onesies, Simon's Cat Harvey Makes a Reappearance, Two-Toned Monsterfuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-25
Updated: 2019-12-25
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21961537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/lafbaeyette, https://archiveofourown.org/users/lafbaeyette/pseuds/pipsqueakparker
Summary: It’s Christmas.Well, it’s Christmas Eve, which is when me, Baz, and Penny celebrate together.Penny’s gonna be leaving to her family tonight after we exchange gifts. Baz leaves in the morning for Hampshire (thank Merlin they’ve got their magic back there), but he’s spending the night here with me. Because it’s our anniversary.--AKA, The One Where It's Their Fifth Anniversary And Simon Has Some Questionable Kinks
Relationships: Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Series: 5 Years 'Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665100
Comments: 13
Kudos: 303





	you're a fit one, mr. grinch

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas & Happy Holidays to the Carry On fandom, I'm sorry. 
> 
> Honestly, this was going to be a fairly wholesome Christmas fic and then my roommate got a very particular onesie as a Christmas present and.... it went downhill. (It's the one Simon wears.) 
> 
> So, have some holiday smut. 
> 
> Thank you [ The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff/pseuds/The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff) and [ Icarus ](https://icarus-n-flames.tumblr.com/) for beta-ing and also dealing with me yelling about this monstrosity for the past few days. 
> 
> And extra thanks to The_Honeyed_Hufflepuff for the title.

**SIMON**

It’s Christmas. 

Well, it’s Christmas Eve, which is when me, Baz, and Penny celebrate together. 

Penny’s gonna be leaving to her family tonight after we exchange gifts. Baz leaves in the morning for Hampshire (thank Merlin they’ve got their magic back there), but he’s spending the night here with me. Because it’s our anniversary. 

It’s weird, having the anniversary of something so good live right next to the anniversary of something so… well, bad. Not to mention having them both fall around the holiday that everyone considers the “most wonderful time of the year”. It’s not, truly, the most wonderful time. For me, anyway. It’s still hard, and the first few Christmases after felt near impossible to live through. I spent them all with the Bunces, even though Baz invited me to join his family. I couldn’t dare face the Grimms and Pitches after what I’d done, on the anniversary of the day I sucked the magic clean out of their home. I’ve still never spent the holiday with them, even though Baz wants me to. I’m not sure if I’m ready for that step. 

My therapist says it’d be good for me. She likes to make lists of things that would be good for me, and she likes for me to make lists when I do them, about why they were good or bad. This therapist is new, still a magickal therapist of course, and she likes to work with lists. It’s lucky that I do, too. 

The latest list of things that would be good for me includes:

One, spending Christmas with Baz’s family. It’s been near five years since that night. The magic returned to Hampshire two years ago. Baz doesn’t push me to go, but always assures that I’m welcome. By everyone. 

And when I don’t go, his stepmother sends him back with sweets and gifts. 

Two, focus on the  _ good _ anniversary. Mine and Baz’s anniversary. 

Tonight is our  _ fifth _ , and at first anniversaries were hard. Because it was the day before everything crashed down around me, before I lost my magic, before the Mage and Ebb both died.

I honestly forgot that first year, too focused on everything else, not that Baz faulted me. I faulted me. 

Three, let myself be sad. That one sounded funny when she first said it, but I suppose it makes sense. She said that if I feel sad, I shouldn’t try to fight it, but just ride through it. She also suggested I talk to Baz and Penny about that one, about my moods in general, and work out ways they can help. Things we should avoid. 

That conversation was a lot for Penny. I love her but she always tries to find a way to fix everything immediately. She’s beginning to understand that she can’t fix this so easily. 

That’s the list I’m supposed to work with this month. Two and three I’ve been working on for the past year, and they’re going fairly well. One is still hard to think about. 

It’s not like I’ve never seen his family since. Baz used to live with Fiona for a spell, and she always found the most inconvenient times to swing through the flat. And I’ve gone out to dinner with Baz, his father, and his stepmother a few times. 

But I can’t face them on the  _ day _ I ruined their lives. Nearly lost them their son, which may be an exaggeration but who honestly knows. 

But I’m not to focus on  _ that _ anniversary. Just the good one. Baz and I, and how we’ve somehow made it through five years as a couple. That was also a rough go, but we made it and we’re still working through it all. 

And today is Christmas Eve, our Christmas. 

Penny’s fretting about the tree and about Harvey, my cat, messing up the tinsel and chewing the branches. I’m in the kitchen, making fresh scones, and Baz is next to me putting together plates of snacks. We don’t do a big dinner together, just some posh finger foods Baz insists on making and sweets I decide to bake. Baz got Cook Pritchard’s recipe for sour cherry scones for me, so now I make them every Christmas. 

“How long do those bake?” Baz asks as I slide the pan of scones into the oven. He’s behind me when I stand again, wrapping his arms around my waist as I lean over to set a timer. 

“Twenty minutes.”

Baz presses a kiss to my left shoulder blade, right where my wings would normally be. (I let Penny spell them a little more often now. I don’t want to be rid of them entirely, but sometimes it’s just easier to maneuver without them. Baz loves it, I think, just because he can do this without me accidentally knocking him with a wing.) 

“A lot could be done in twenty minutes,” Baz murmurs as I press back into him, breath ghosting over the shell of my ear. My eyes dart over to the entryway, I can still hear Penny in the living room. I twist in Baz’s hold, let him press me back against the counter as he tilts his mouth down to mine. 

It’s gentle at first, it always is with Baz. He’s cautious, patient. He takes his time and his lips are soft, kisses tender, and I melt into him. Sometimes he literally makes me weak in the knees, like now as he presses further into me and coaxes my mouth open and bends me back over the counter. 

Baz is always gentle at first, but he can also go from 0 - 100 right fast. 

He’s got his tongue in my mouth and a hand down the back of my trousers, squeezing my arse, when someone clears their throat from the doorway. I jerk away, my face burning as I meet Penny’s eyes across the kitchen. Baz doesn’t move, merely glances boredly at Penny over his shoulder. 

“I thought you two were working on Christmas dinner.” Penny crosses her arms over her chest and raises her brow. It’s not as flawless and judgmental as when Baz does it, but it still delivers the message. 

“We are,” Baz assures her, hand still splayed over my arse. “Snacks are plated, pudding’s in the oven.” With that, Baz turns his head back to catch my lips again and my face is burning even hotter somehow. It’s not like we’ve never kissed in front of Penny, but never… like this. Baz has never bit my lip or drove his tongue into my mouth in front of Penny. 

I’ve never  _ moaned _ in front of Penny. Which isn’t something I can say anymore, as a noise escapes my throat before I can help it. 

“Oi! Nicks and Slick, Basil, I’m  _ right here _ .” 

Baz breaks away just long enough to say, “Then leave.” Then his mouth is back on mine, and his other hand is at my waist, tugging at a belt loop, pulling our hips into each other and I almost don’t hear Penny’s shout as she leaves over the broken sound that falls from my lips at the contact. 

“Please don’t fuck near our food, and no asses on the counter!” 

**BAZ**

We don’t fuck on the counter, I’m not an animal. That doesn’t mean I don’t properly fondle Snow  _ against  _ the counter until the oven timer goes off. He’s well riled up as we break away, looks dazed and confused as he looks up at me. 

The oven chirps again and Simon’s eyes seem to focus again, he finds himself, and pushes at my shoulders, “My scones!” 

I can’t help the laugh that rolls from my lips as Simon all but  _ lunges _ to the oven to pull his scones out. They’re fine, perfectly golden, not a burnt edge in sight.

**SIMON**

Once the scones are out we all move to the lounge, snacks and desserts spread out on a table. 

The tree is on, brightly lit with so many colors. Penny and I decorated it a while ago, with tinsel and garland, and a lot of little ornaments that she or Baz had found at consignment shops. They added an older look to it, almost antique, I think you could say. But it’s well festive, and so bright. 

Harvey likes to swat at the garland, Penny’s terrified he’s going to try to eat it. I don’t think he’d do that, but we try to keep an eye out anyway. 

It feels really good, this night. Spending it with Penny and Baz. And Harvey, of course. 

Five years ago, I don’t think I would have dreamed that this would be my future. Especially not the being in love with Baz bit, maybe not even the still being alive bit. 

I’m glad I am, though. Alive. And in love with Baz. 

He can be a right arsehole sometimes, of course, but he’s also one of the softest people I’ve met. He’d argue if he heard me say that, but it’s true. 

That’s alright, because I find I’m rather soft for him, too. Sometimes I catch myself thinking about the future, with him specifically. What it would be like, where we’ll be in a few years. 

Maybe we’ll get married one day. I think I’d like that. I’d definitely like to be with him for the rest of my life, whether that’s legally binding or not. 

“Okay!” Penny claps her hands, reaching for some large bags by the tree. “Let’s open these first!” 

**BAZ**

A onesie. 

Bunce bought me a fucking onesie. Simon, too. She handed us both a bag, told us to open it and go change, and she’d do the same. Except we all had to change individually, so I have no idea if the others are just as atrocious as mine. 

It’s green, and fuzzy, save for the pattern of a red coat on the top. It takes me too long to realize that I’m meant to be the fucking  _ Grinch _ . 

There’s a knock on the door, Bunce’s voice follows. “C’mon, Basil, we have other gifts to open.”

“Why must we wear these?”

“It’s festive!” She knocks again. “Come on, come out here.” 

I open the door slowly. 

**SIMON**

Baz looks like he wants to murder Penny. I haven’t seen that particular glint in his eye in a  _ while _ , but he doesn’t seem to be the biggest fan of this idea. 

I think it’s brilliant. 

Baz’s is green, with a red coat, I think he’s meant to be the Grinch. He honestly looks pretty fit, the jumpsuits a bit too small for him, I think, the green material’s stretched tight around his thighs. I wonder what his arse looks like, I bet it looks nice. He’s got a great arse, especially in something tight like this. Probably I’m just still worked up from earlier in the kitchen. I feel a little bad that I kind of can’t wait for Penny to leave, not anything against her, but Baz is fit even when he’s in a Grinch onesie. I can’t wait to have him alone. 

Penny takes in Baz’s whole outfit. She looks well proud of herself, she picked these all out for us. Hers is fairly tame, kind of cute if I’m honest. It’s got the pattern of a green outfit, and she’s got a hood with pointed ears and an elf hat. Of course she’d get herself the normal elf one while Baz and I are stuck with ridiculous pyjamas for the night. 

Mine feels well ridiculous, too. It’s patterned with mistletoe, which isn’t so bad on its own, but the words ‘KISS ME’ are also embroidered across my chest and I’ve got ‘HO HO HO’ across my arse. Well, it’s on an arse-flap at least. Fully functional, by the way. But the worst bit is the hood, which Penny’s insisted I pull up, because it’s got a stem sticking straight up with a sprig of mistletoe hanging from it. 

Baz finally looks at me and the murderous expression drops from his face, replaced with the face he makes when he’s trying not to laugh. At least it’s giving him a laugh. 

“Why is yours normal then?” He asks, turning back to Penny. 

“It’s not, it’s festive! I’m an elf!” Penny points to her ears as proof. “Come on, boys, let’s open gifts.”

Baz moves past me to sit on the couch. I was right, his arse looks incredible. 

Penny drops cross-legged to the floor in front of the tree and begins passing out gifts, while Harvey tries to play with every bow and ribbon he sees. I consider sitting next to Baz, but I can’t honestly promise myself I won’t snog him senseless right here. 

After the gifts, we all have some snacks and desserts, turn on a movie that we pay no attention to. 

I’m still sat by Baz’s legs, the green fur of his grinch outfit is well soft, and I lean my cheek against his knee as he laughs at something Penny’s said. I’m not sure what they’re talking about, it doesn’t matter. Harvey curls up on my lap, lets me stroke his head and a line down his back as he purrs like a motor. He’s purring so loud he sounds like the steady hum of windscreen wipers, and I feel just as content in this moment. 

It’s strange, feeling content. I let my eyes slip closed as I lean heavy against Baz’s leg. I feel his fingers in my hair, his nails scratching my scalp, and I think I doze off to his warm voice telling Penny a story.

**BAZ**

Simon’s asleep against my knee, his cat nestled in his lap, and I feel like my heart could explode right out of my chest. He’s wearing a ridiculous mistletoe onesie, his curls are sticking out at odd angles from pulling the hood over them and then my hand running through them. There’s a bit of drool gathered at the corner of his mouth. 

I can’t believe I’m so in love with him that none of that matters. 

“I hate to wake him up, but I’ve got to leave soon.” Penny’s voice is quiet and I look up to see her watching Simon fondly. She doesn’t make a move to wake him, and just as I’m about to she looks up at me. “Do you think he’s okay?” 

“Simon?”

“Yeah. He seems to be doing better, I think… but this time of year…”

I look back down at Simon. “I’m not sure, if I’m honest. I think he is for now.” 

“I feel bad leaving him.” 

“He won’t be alone for long. I’m leaving in the morning and you’re coming back tomorrow night, aren’t you? That’s barely a full day.”

“But it’s  _ Christmas _ .” 

“Be rational, Penelope. He’s going to be okay.” I nudge Simon gently with my knee. He jerks awake, looks around a bit disoriented, and I stifle a laugh. 

**SIMON**

Penny’s gone. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on Baz, but they woke me up at least before she had to leave so that we could say goodbye. It’s not like she’ll be gone all that long, she’s coming back tomorrow night. Penny loves her family, but she’s even said she can’t spend that much time around them all. She visits often, but for short periods, and apparently that works best for everyone. 

Anyway, Penny’s  _ gone _ . 

So it’s just me and Baz, and he’s still in that ridiculous green onesie and I find myself going back to the moment kitchen earlier. When Baz apparently wanted me so badly he didn’t even care that Penny was standing right there. When he pressed me back into the cabinets and licked into my mouth and pushed his hand down the back of my trousers. 

He’s still sat on the sofa, scrolling through his mobile, and I’m still stood next to the door, too far away from him. I turn the lock, move back to the sofa, and drop myself onto his lap. He looks up from his screen, raising one eyebrow as he looks at me. 

“Need something, Snow?” 

_ You _ , I think. Saying it feels too… direct, though, somehow. It’s sitting heavy on my tongue, but it won’t move past my lips. Instead I’m just staring at him, watching him watching me. Watching his other brow quirk up with the first.

I pull the hood of my onesie up, the mistletoe attached now dangling above us. Baz looks at it, then back at me. 

“Are you hinting at something?” He asks, and he  _ knows _ I am, he’s just being an arse. He’s smirking and it drives me mad. I lunge forward, crashing our lips together with maybe a bit more force than necessary, but Baz isn’t complaining. He’s resting his hands on my hips, lips moving just as fiercely against mine. 

Baz slips his tongue into my mouth and his hand slips down to cup my arse. I hum into his mouth, letting him pull me closer, pressing myself into him. 

“Simon,” he breathes against my lips, he’s still close enough that his lips brush against mine with every word. “Is there… a bum flap on this onesie?”

I feel his fingers toying around the edge of the aforementioned flap, long fingers running over the buttons. I press our mouths together once more before answering, “Fully functional one at that.” 

That’s all Baz needs. His mouth is back on mine and his hand slips beneath the flap of fabric, his hand finding my bare arse and pulling a short gasp from him. “You’re not wearing pants.” 

“Too warm,” I explain, dropping my mouth down to his neck. Pulling another gasp from him as his head drops against the back of the sofa. 

“You’ve a bum flap and no pants,” he murmurs, his hand squeezing me. I nip at his neck, right beneath his jaw. “ _ Fuck _ , Snow.” 

I continue my trail of wet kisses down his throat, feel his adam’s apple bob under my lips. My hands are still resting on his chest, I feel it rise and fall beneath my palms as his breathing picks up. I want to make him breath  _ harder _ , I want to hear him moaning my name. 

I reach for the zipper of his outfit, pull back just enough to give him a questioning look. He nods immediately, frantically, and I grin because Baz Pitch is starting to fall apart under me. 

I tug the zipper down just a bit, just enough to expose the top of his chest, and I drop down to mouth at the newly exposed skin. 

**BAZ**

Simon’s mouth is capable of some absolutely  _ sinful _ acts. Not that what he’s doing right now is all that scandalous, but it shouldn’t be allowed to feel this  _ good _ . His mouth is following the zipper as he pulls it down, exposing more and more of my chest and stomach. 

I think he’s going to stop once he reaches the top of my belly, it’s not quite so easy to contort himself down any further to mouth at it, but no. He just slips off my lap, pushing my knees apart so he can slot himself between them, and pulls the zip the rest of the way down. It goes right down to the crotch, leaving my pants (and my quickly hardening cock within) out and on display. 

I can’t take my eyes off Simon Snow between my legs, hands running up and down my thighs. His eyes trail from my crotch to the fluffy green material over my thighs, his hands slowing down as he rubs over them. He’s quiet for a long moment, and when he does finally speak up his voice is so soft I almost think I’ve misheard him. 

“You look right fit in this, you know?” 

“In Grinch pyjamas?” I ask. 

“Yeah.” He’s intently watching his own hands as he smooths them over the material again and again. “It’s well soft, too, innit?” 

“Is there something you want to tell me, Snow?” I have to bite back my smile, quirking a brow at him. He looks up to me finally, face scrunched up with confusion for a split second until he catches on that I’m taking the piss. 

“Prat,” he mumbles under his breath, but then he’s dropping his head down and resting his cheek against my thigh where his hand had just been. His other moves to palm me through my pants and my hips involuntarily buck up against his hand, a low sound falling from my lips. Simon’s got a small smile on his lips, and there’s something devious in his eyes when they flick back up to meet mine. I’ve no time to question it, because in the next moment he’s replaced his hand with his mouth, and then he’s pulling my cock out of my pants and taking me into his mouth. 

_ This  _ is one of the sinful things Simon is actually capable of using his mouth for. Not for talking, or any proper forms of communication, but he was born to suck cock. I’m telling him so before I even realize it, the words tumbling from my lips among a string of breathy moans. I’m pushing that godforsaken hood of his back, slipping my fingers into his curls as he hollows his cheeks around me, and  _ fuck _ . 

**SIMON**

I think Baz has just told me I was  _ born to suck cock _ .

It came out so quickly, and breathily, I very well could have misheard. I don’t think I did. I hope I didn’t, because  _ that _ was fucking  _ hot _ . 

But he’s  _ moaning _ , and tugging a handful of my hair, and his hips are moving in these tight little circles. He’s trying not to move and it’s bloody hot that he can’t help it. 

I pop off of him, looking up to find him staring at me with blown pupils and a hungry look in his eye. He’s on me a second later, holding the back of my head in one hand and swiping his tongue past my lips. I wonder if he can taste himself. I wonder if he likes it. 

He pulls me back into his lap and his hands are on my arse again, pressing me to him. 

“Baz, I want you to fuck me,” I breathe against his lips.

“We should move this to the bedroom, then, shouldn’t we?” 

I shake my head, and surprise myself at first, if I’m honest. “Want you right here.” 

Baz huffs a laugh. “Snow, at the very least we need lube. And Bunce would murder us if our bare arses come near her sofa.” 

“They don’t have to,” I answer quickly. “I - I think I’d like if you kept this on.” I rub my hand over the shoulder of his onesie, down his arm, and ignore the little smirk on his lips. “And mine’s accessible. I just - I wanna do it like this. Need you like this.” 

His eyes are boring into me, it feels like he could set me on fire with his gaze alone. 

He  _ could _ . He  _ does _ . 

His fingers are moving slowly behind me, messing with the buttons on either side of the flap on my bottom until it falls open. His hands are on me, and I can’t help but gasp when he presses one finger gently between my cheeks. 

“I still need lube,” he says. 

“Right. Yeah, no, I ca - I can get that.” I hate that I’m stuttering, but I can’t focus on that for too long. I crawl off his lap, waste no time on going to my room to get what we need. 

**BAZ**

Simon Snow wants me to fuck him on his sofa. The nightmare wants to  _ ride me _ on his sofa. 

Penelope Bunce would have our heads. 

I have to stop thinking about Penelope Bunce when I’m about to shag my boyfriend. 

_ Boyfriend _ . 

It’s been five years today and I still find myself repeating the word over and over, I almost can’t believe it. Simon Snow is  _ mine _ , and I’m  _ his _ . I get to snog him and hold him and shag him, and live out all of my fifth year fantasies. 

And some things that even my overactive imagination couldn’t have predicted. 

It was rough going at first, in those first few years, but we made it. We  _ made it _ . 

I want to keep making it. To keep loving him and holding him, to keep being his for the rest of our lives. 

I want to  _ marry _ Simon Snow. 

I never thought I’d want to marry anyone, honestly. It wasn’t something I thought about, especially considering the vampire situation. It seemed too painful, the idea of being with someone only for the rest of  _ their  _ life, because who knows whether I’m truly i mmortal or not. 

But being with Simon is so  _ good _ . I love him so fucking much, more than I thought I was capable of. Being with him for however long I can is more than worth whatever pain I may meet in the future. 

I want to propose. I’ve a whole plan, actually. Daphne and Mordelia helped me, but it’s going to take convincing Simon to finally spend Christmas with my family. He’s so stubborn, and scared, and I don’t want him to be. I know he still feels guilty, but nobody is blaming him for what happened that night. We got our magic back on Hampshire eventually, we’ve all moved past it. 

All but Simon. 

Going back with me may help with that, at least he says his therapist told him it would. I was hoping to convince him tonight. This is throwing my plan off just a bit, but I’m not complaining. 

Because Simon Snow is back with a bottle of lube in one hand, condom in the other, and he’s climbing back into my lap and kissing me. And I’m so in love with him. 

It takes more effort than it should to tear my mouth away from his, but I do and I nudge his hip. “Turn ‘round. Here.” 

He shifts off my lap, whining the whole time. “Love, if you want this I’ve got to -” 

“Yeah, just -” Simon’s words cut off with a moan as I press one finger against him.  _ Good _ . I grab the lube, get to work spreading him open as he falls apart. He’s pressing back against my hand, moaning and pressing his face against the cushion. 

“Okay, I -  _ Please _ ,” Simon gasps, twisting to look at me. “Need you.” 

I nod, pulling my fingers out of him. 

**SIMON**

It’s a bit awkward, working around our clothes. There’s definitely lube on… everything. We’ll have to toss these in the wash, but there’s also something really hot about it all. 

I sink down onto him and I feel so full, then his mouth is on my neck, leaving a trail of hot kisses across my skin, and it all feels so, _so_ _good_. 

“ _ Fuck _ , Simon,” Baz breathes against my collarbone as I lift myself up, then drop back down. He starts pushing his hips up, meeting me with each thrust, and matching every moan or breathy gasp. “You’re so… fuck, so tight - so  _ good _ .  _ Fuck _ .” 

“So eloquent tonight, babe.” I tease. 

“Fuck you.” He mutters, his hands tightening on my hips. 

“Actively trying.” 

He huffs a laugh, which breaks off into a groan as I grind my hips down. 

I’m getting close all too quickly, even without him touching me, but then he’s pulling my zipper all the way down until he can slip his hand in and wrap his long fingers around me. 

It doesn’t take much after that, until we’re both crashing over that edge. Baz moaning against my shoulder as I come over his hand, his stomach, and we  _ definitely  _ need to toss these outfits in the wash. 

**BAZ**

Simon falls against me and I feel like I’m  _ flying _ . Like I’m still coming down from my orgasm, except I’m just floating there. My heart feels tight in my chest and my stomach is swooping, and I can’t believe how incredibly in love I am with this idiot that wanted to shag me in a fucking  _ Grinch onesie _ . 

“Come with me tomorrow,” I whisper into Simon’s hair. He’s still breathing hard, his face buried in my neck, and I take the opportunity to press soft kisses wherever I can reach. “To Hampshire.” 

“Baz.” His voice is hoarse. He sighs. “I…” 

“We all want you to,” I continue. “Father, Mother, and the children. Mordelia wants to see you, and Daphne’s been wanting to talk about your biscuit recipes since you sent me off with them last year.” 

“ _ Baz _ ,” he says again. “I can’t, I - After what I did -” 

“It’s been five years, love.” 

“Did you just shag me so I wouldn’t have the energy to argue about this?” Simon tilts his head up just enough to narrow his eyes at me, and I laugh. 

“You initiated this, if I recall.” I press a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not going to make you, and I understand your reservations. But no one is holding that against you, no one is thinking about it. They just want you there.  _ I  _ want you there.” 

Simon’s silent for a long moment, before finally saying, “But it’s your time with your family…” 

“Simon,  _ you’re  _ my family. I’d like to spend Christmas with everyone I love, you know.” 

Simon’s got a smile on his lips, and he’s looking at me with the softest expression. I could melt, I very well might. I could implode, even, from how much this hurts in my chest. 

“You love me?” He asks, shit-eating grin in tact. 

I roll my eyes. “Somehow, you absolute nightmare.” 

He leans up then, and presses his mouth to mine. I do melt into him then, and he sighs as he pulls away. Breathes, “Okay.” 

“Okay?” I lift an eyebrow in question, and he heaves another heavy sigh, as if this is the hardest thing in the world for him. 

It just might be. 

“I’ll go. With you. Tomorrow.” 

I’m grinning at him, and he’s smiling, too, now, and kisses me again. 

I make a note to text Mordelia, tell her to set the plan into action. 

But first I have to get out of this godforsaken onesie and properly snog my boyfriend.

**Author's Note:**

> come find me on tumblr @pipsqueakparker


End file.
